Showing posts with label Sign On. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sign On. Show all posts

Thursday 9 June 2011

Tomatoes

.



Good job I'm not one to complain. Sitting here as I do, with a pile of shredded Lottery tickets at my side, now reaching up to the top of the waste bin, and having so little excitement yesterday that just buying a large bag of tomatoes for a pound became a moment to cheer. Nothing else had happened, and it failed to happen all day. The cheering was not repeated today when I entered the dole office to sign on (yet) again and scrawl 'Scrounger' on the piece of paper thrust towards me. The discovery that a new lass was learning the job, a Pole, somewhat irked my constantly good natured  persona.  Now, thought I blearily, how come I am one struggling to find work, and failed to acquire a job in the dole office a while back through an administrative error, yet new people are appearing here on a regular basis and no jobs have been advertised? How come I am not doing that job? It was as I slunk out I began to rouse my rage and once again feel the world is against me. Did I not pass that test? Did I not succeed during the interview? Did I not get the letter informing me that I was 'On the waiting list?' Yet it collapsed because that form was missing through a blunder.  Did I not try a second time when the interviews once more arose? Did I not make plans to attend the meeting in that absurd out of the way spot? Was it my fault that this was the day slimy Joe nicked all the copper wire from the signals and left me high and dry? There is no doubt that this is a Conservative/Lib-Dem plot to drive me barmy! It cannot be anything else! 


Peeved I was when I returned to my slum (which was quite nice when I moved in, I wonder what happened?).  I responded to this situation in a suitable manner I felt. I came home and fell asleep. I did however eat some tomatoes later in the day.


(Tomatoes, I will have you know, are pronounced 'Tomato' by the way, and not 'Tomato,' I don't want any needless arguments on that one!


.

Thursday 5 February 2009

Thursday Gum Bumping


The meeting with the pretty girl at the Job Centre went all right I suppose. I was a bit depressed when I woke this morning, nothing seems to be right, but the pretty lass took a hand and shook me out off it. She took two hands actually, both to shake me, and then the back of just one to encourage me to be more satisfied with life. She referred to this as the 'woman's touch,' although 'touch' is a somewhat genteel way to a slap that hard. I told her that next week I have the 'Theory test' and I discovered happily that this organisation will pay the £30 fee! I asked if they would pay for the two coffees I required and was told to "Sod Off!" This, remember, is a member of the 'weaker sex.' The idea of all this driving tuition being that this enables me to get work. Whether this will or not I do not know but it appears to be the only option open to me at the moment. Bad knees, age, and an aptitude for gormlessness do not a success make! Still I search on and something will come up somewhere. I wonder what? The credit crunch does not help. Hundreds are losing their jobs and for some this is a new experience. A wealthy society, and this has been one of the richest for many years, produces generations unused to doing without. What some believe to be necessities are in fact luxuries. yet doing without them will cause heartache and much pain for many. I feel bad about their pain, it may however be good in the long run. Our parents suffered the Great War, then the depression, huge social change and another war with even greater change social to follow. Many of them deserved to end with a happy home, warm, fed, with the mod cons they never heard of when young, and with a decent health service. This generation has never done without, except in extreme cases. Most will cope but for a great number the next few years, note I said 'years,' will be intolerable.

I had to return in the afternoon to sign on, not through the young lady, she had dismissed me as she was bored with my company, but I saw my friend the French woman. So I signed on, had a chat, and got thrown out as I was taking to much of her time. Her man is slightly older than me, canny find a job, and she understands the position well. While she is helpful she is well able to give back any lip that arises during the day. I once had to call the security guard to get her to stop handbagging me! She urged me to apply for the 14 vacancies in the dole office caused by the vast increase of workload. This I have already done and if the bosses are as daft as I suspect civil service managers to be, I may end up in work. It will not happen of course but it is worth a try!



On Monday the driving lesson was postponed because of the snow. On Tuesday because of the black ice, tomorrow we will try again. So tonight the smiling weather girl has promised between 2-5 centimetres of snow
(whatever a centimetre is?). The other smiling (and well built) weather girl suggests it may reach 10 centimetres. I now discover 2.5 Cm's equals one inch, so it may be 2-4 inches of snow. Up north this would slow things down and cause problems. Down here the world will grind to a halt, questions will again be asked in Parliament ("Why do Russia and Sweden cope but we can't?") and newspaper headlines will scream blue murder and blame the government. In fact, it is 18 years since such snow landed here, and off course we are not ready for it, it rarely happens and will be gone by the weekend. Russia and other places have it for six months, temperatures descend to minus 40, and they are naturally prepared. Those who yell would yell louder if we bought the snowploughs they demand and end up garaged for years. Ah well, if we have nothing to complain about there would be no blogs! Not that I am one to complain of course.


My mother is 94 today! Just imagine that! Had my father lived he would have been 100 years old last March. Jings! She was born during the Great War before the mistake of Gallipolli had begun or the first real Push failed at Loos. Her mining family struggled through six months of the general strike in 1926, the depression which ravished them and the second war which broke out not long after her marriage.
(Not our fault they claimed!). With two young children she saw him off to war in 1941 (still before the Yanks had decided to join in) and later brought up her four selfish children. She deserves better. She could reach 100 if we are not careful!